The Womb-Fruit Becomes An Emo

I think there might be something wrong with the Spawn. He seems very unhappy lately.
I have just discovered that he has decided to take a hiatus from his mighty ambition of achieving world domination, by setting aside all wicked and various other acts of cruelty and misdeeds solely perpetrated towards the wanton mass destruction of earth and civilization as we know it. It would seem that he has selected, perhaps unwisely, to dedicate all his efforts into becoming an Emo instead.
The first that I became aware of this significant change in his plans, was when I just so happened to chance upon his diary. Yes I know that it’s wrong to violate the private sanctum of a person’s ‘book of thoughts’, but I’m slowly running out of blackmail material.
And so I read on, desperately trying to decipher the incoherent meaning behind his incredibly cryptic words.
The diary entry reads as follows:

Try as I might, I could not fathom the concealed definition of his text. What fiendish plot did he have lurking within the depths of his devilish mind? what vital clue was I missing? I did not have the foggiest. But it appears that since my womb-fruit has crossed over the threshold from crib-lizard to adolescence, there has been a marked difference in his behaviour and I am not sure what the cause of his current malaise is.
For example, he doesn’t seem to want to communicate with me any more…

“I’ve been having a lot of nightmares recently which have been quite disturbing. Now I know that what I’m about to tell you is probably part of a bad dream that I had, but I swear that the other night, something either entered or exited my hoo-ha.”

“Now if that something entered my hoo-ha, then we need to prepare ourselves for what may  in 9 months time. If however that something exited my hoo-ha, then there may already be a blood sucking alien succubus on the loose. One that sucks the very life force out of it’s host…I mean I already have one of those, (Looks Spawn directly in the eyes) I don’t need another”

“I’m going to my room.”

Then there was the time when I decided to try a spot of Zumba…okay, I was naked and it was to the theme of the Teletubbies, but did that really warrant such harsh words? 

“It is too late to pluck out thine eyes, for this image  has already be burned into my brain for all eternity. God, how I wish I was adopted by a interracial, disabled, mentally unstable,  transgender, lesbian couple of questionable religious practices, for you are a trauma that nobody should have to go through”

I mean why would he say such a thing if he wasn’t exhibiting signs of melancholy?
And there is something else that I’ve noticed, he has become highly irritable, even at the most trivial of things.

“Dear God Mother, must you keep expelling air from your back door belly button? The air in here is becoming quite dense.”

“But passing wind is a completely natural process. Even the Queen does it.”

“I’m sure she does Mater, but I bet that she doesn’t do it AT THE DINNER TABLE!!!!”

I mean really readers, was there any reason for such disrespectful behaviour?
And now he is being secretive about the people he hangs out with and refuses to let me meet any of his friends.

” I’m going out”.

“OK. Who with?”

” Jessie.”

” Jessie? Is she the one that looks Danny Devito?”

“What?? No!!”

“Oh wait, that’s Jenny. Is she the one whose mum looks like a man in drag?”

(Said whilst walking towards the door) “I’m going.”

 “Is she the one with the one with the rather large teeth that looks like she’s trying to chew off the lower half of her face?”

(Spawn opening front the door) “I’ll be back by 8:30.”

“The morbidly obese one who is perpetually hungry with the psychotic mum?”

(Spawn halfway out the door) “Her mother no longer resides at that particular address.”

“What happened to her mum? OH MY GOD! DID SHE EAT HER MUM??!!”

(Spawn now outside the door) “Goodbye. I’m not sure if I’ll be returning.”

“IS SHE THE ONE THAT’S SO FAT, THAT SHE’S SOON TO BE OVERTHROWN BY A SMALL MILITIA GROUP?” (Door slams) Oh how rude!”

And now it would appear that he is without a sense of humour.

 “Mother, do you believe in the existence of ghosts?”

“Why yes son of mine. Not too long ago, I encountered an unexplained phenomena that scared the living daylights out of me.”

(Spawn getting excited) “What? What was it? What was it?”

” Well I went into the kitchen this morning to make myself a cup of coffee and when I…and this is the spooky bit…when I switched on the kettle (pause for dramatic effect) the water started boiling! I mean, how scary was that huh?”

“Huh?”

“Huh?”

” I mean there was no one else around when it happened. You’ve got to admit that that’s a bit odd huh?”

“Huh?”

“You suck the very essence out of life itself. You know that don’t you?”

“But it really freaked me out! Quick, fetch me the yellow pages, I need to make an important call.”

“Who are you going to call?”

 “GHOSTBUSTERS!!” (Said to Spawn as he walked away and padlocked the door to his room) “OH MY GOD SPAWN! IT JUST HAPPENED AGAIN! I SWITCHED ON THE LIGHT AND IT CAME ON!! WHAT VILE AND DEVIOUS MANNER OF WITCHCRAFT IS THIS??!!”

And there you have it dear readers. I don’t know what it is that ails my child of the loom, but I’m sure that it has nothing whatsoever to do with me…right?

~Lily

The Fast And The Flurrious

It is here, the moment that we have all been dreading.
The icy blast of a great storm beckons, waiting to drown us  in it’s deluge of atmospheric vapours of crystallised ice, whilst threatening to usher along with it a sense of complete and utter lack of hope.
It’s foreboding presence will be a testimony to the majestic and triumphant courage of those prepared to face an age old enemy. An enemy that will freeze the marrow in their  bones and instil a bitter air of frigidity into their very hearts.
For throughout history, we Southerners have often been regarded as being a little on the whimsical side. All to often we have been mocked for our ‘soft’ ways, like the manner in which we refer to dinner  as ‘tea’ and tea as a ‘cuppa,’ or bemoan the fact that the cost of a pint in London will quite literally cost you an arm and a leg. (selling your kidneys on the black market will get you two pints and a packet of pork scratchings)
But during this, our winter of discontent which we have subtlety called SNOWMAGEDDON, we Southerners have shown true grit…unlike our streets and roads which are barely covered in the stuff. In this blustery month of mayhem and chaos, no more shall we be a laughing stock, for our spirit and resilience will see us through to the darkest of days.

Look how the heavens up above have opened up the gateway for the mighty torrent that now lines our streets.

See how it’s devastation has griped the nation in it’s mighty fist, shaking it violently like the large yet rather supple buttocks of a woman perfecting the dark and ancient art of twerking, as life as we know it, comes to a complete standstill.

In some parts of the South East, whole areas have been buried under 10cm of snow which has incapacitated entire towns and lain waste to whole cities.

And as traffic grinds to halt and chaos ensues, we will not let this Snownami defeat us.

We will remain calm and stoic in the face of such adversity…

…and not let the blinding whiteness of this snowstorm overwhelm us.

For we are strong. Fearless. Together we  will stick two fingers up at the cruelness of Mother Nature and give a middle finger to the harshness of this calamitous storm by the erections of snowmen everywhere by erecting snowmen everywhere.

We will not falter, nor will we fall…aside from on those parts of the pavement which have yet to be gritted. For we are survivors!

SNOWMAGEDDON be dammed, for we WILL live to see the dawning of a new world and work hard to rebuild the wreckage that you have so wrought against us!!

~Lily

Hell Hath No Chocolate For A Woman Scorned.

As many of you do not know, my older brother is a pastor (yes, we do come from the same mother) and as such, feels it is his duty to point out the many many errors of my ways. And because my brother is a good man, (the only wicked thing about him is his sense of humour)I decided a few years ago to accept my his invitation to attend a church service…and no, I did not spontaneously combust into flames on coming into contact with consecrated ground.
Now this planned visit wasn’t to do with any cathartic episodes on my part. There were no sudden crisis of faith, nor was there a sense of wanting to quell the iniquitous tide of the past. No, this was simply to do with something that my older brother had said during a recent conversation. A conversation in which he detailed the very likelihood of my being bound for the nether world. It was a conversation so horrifying, that it had me thinking about the direction that I had been taking in life and the changes that I needed to make in order to rectify my indiscretions… before it became to late…

The Conversation…

“Lily, as your brother, I’m only telling you this because I love you. But if you carry on the way that you’ve been going and don’t seek to change your wicked and quite frankly, hedonistic ways, then at the dawning of the new millennium when the second coming is reaped upon us, you shall  forever be cast into the fiery flames of hell.”

“Meh, at least It’ll be warm.”

“I’m serious. In fact I think that Satan may have a special place reserved just for you because of the very nature of  your sins.”

“Yaay! Free accommodation!”

“Laugh all you want lil sis but when the day of judgement comes upon you, your soul will be lost forever.”

“Along with my house keys, mobile phone, child, virginity, faith in humanity. Jesus, no blasphemy intended, I’m always loosing things.”

My brother then paused, no doubt taking in the aura of blackness that surrounded the darkness of my soul and realising that he was getting nowhere in his approach, decided to use a different tactic. A tactic that would soon have me quaking in fear and wishing desperately to see the light.

“Lily, you do know that there is no chocolate in hell don’t you?”

“WHAT THE FUCK?? SHUT UP!!”

“Really? You kiss our mother with that mouth?! Seriously Lily,  imagine an eternity without chocolate. Go on, try to imagine it.”

At this point, I begun to imagine thus but I could not. The thought seemed too absurd and too abhorrent to even contemplate. Sweat beaded my brow and my breath grew shallow. My head felt heavy with the burden of such cognition and soon my legs, which had been trembling slightly, gave way from beneath me. As my brother reached out to support my frail frame, I  gripped him tightly in my despair and openly wept at the hopelessness of spending such perpetuity. Without chocolate, it would be an horrendous and futile existence. An infinity devoid of milky goodness and arteries that hardened at the unwrapping of a Snickers duo. This was not the kind of immortality that I had in mind.

“Can you imagine it Lil? No assortment of mini chocolate selections, no peanut M&Ms or Mars duo and definitely and most certainly,  no Cadbury’s milk chocolate.”

By now I was in utter disbelief. I could not bear to hear such harsh words, words that seem to flow with ease from his cruel twisted lips. And so I let fly in a fit of rage at this apparent falsehood

“YOU LIE! You’re suppose to be a man of god, yet here you stand before me sprouting words of pure wickedness!”  I inhaled deeply as I sought to calm myself but the overwhelming tide of panic threatened to engulf me, as tears clouded my vision. “Like none at all?”  I was now sobbing uncontrollably. “Not even those kinder buenos with the cream and the wafer biscuit? I mean that stuff is revolting, truly disgusting. I mean if we’re talking about things that are truly evil, then surely those can only be the work of  Beelzebub himself?”

“Nope.”

“You are shitting me?? But chocolate makes up part of my staple diet.”

“Lily, chocolate IS your staple diet, and there are sewers cleaner then your mouth. Stop swearing. I’m sorry sis but that’s the truth, there’s no chocolate in hell. Only those who are pure of heart and clean of mind get to receive the heavenly bounty that is confectionery…oh and also those who still have a soul, the soulless can’t eat chocolate…it gives them cramps.”

“But doesn’t chocolate come under the remit of sin? After all it encourages gluttony, sloth, greed and wrath, especially when some twat tries to steal my Cluster bar…hey, is aggravated assault one of the deadly sins? Cos last time that Sandra tried to pinch my Whole Nut, I almost punched her in the boob.”

“I didn’t though. Oh how I’ve missed Sandra over the years. No matter how carefully I aim the car, the bitch still manages to jump the way.”

“What?? It was a WHOLE NUT!”

“And this is EXACTLY why you are going to hell! Seriously, there are truckers who are embarrassed by your foul mouth. Look sis, you’re just going to have to deal with the fact that Satan is too cheap to spring for a packet of Malteser and a few Penguin Bars…though I do believe that he does have Brussels sprouts in hell…and in abundance.”

“SACRILEGE!! WHY ON EARTH WOULD SOMEONE UNLEASH SUCH HORROR UPON THE WORLD? IS THERE NOT ENOUGH SUFFERING AS IT IS? WHAT ABOUT THE CHILDREN? FOR THE LOVE OF MANKIND, WON’T SOMEBODY THINK ABOUT THE CHILDREN??”

“Yep, you’re definitely burning in the fires of Hades. (Sighs heavily) But you’re right, who would unleash such horror upon the world? Satan that’s who. Remember, this is the being responsible for wars, famine, Paris Hilton and Star Wars The Phantom Menace. Why does he do it? Because he is evil that’s why. So, are you going to come to church with me on Sunday then?”

“Meh, might as well. There’s nothing good on TV on a Sundays anyway. Will there be chocolate?”

 “WE’RE GOING TO THE HOUSE OF GOD, NOT WILLY WONKA’S SODDING CHOCOLATE FACTORY!”

“Whoa! Whatever happened to patience being a virtue? By the way bro, we might have a slight incy wincy, teenie weenie bit of a problem.”

“Oh good lord, please take her now! What is it Lil?”

“Erm, is there really any truth in the fact that those who are  cursed by evil, will combust spontaneously on coming into contact with anything built on consecrated grounds?”

“Er…why do you ask?”

“Yo.”

~Lily

 

 

Halloween, A Tale Of Horror

Twas 2 am, I couldn’t sleep,

so instead decided to count sheep.

I counted ten then heard a peep,

of something in the room.

I lay quite silent, laid quite still.

Heard nothing so relaxed until,

a breath upon my neck did feel.

And then my heart went cold.

There’s something lurking in my room.

There’s something deep within the gloom.

It waits to take me to my doom,

into a lifeless hell.

I hear it breathing, hear it’s sound.

I try to move but I am bound.

The duvet wrapped quite tightly round,

my still and frightened body.

I feel it now upon my bed.

It’s visage seeps into my head.

And I feel something, something dead,

touch my stone cold face.

I see it now, I want to scream.

A nightmare from my waking dream.

The whiteness from it’s teeth they gleam,

from the blackness of it’s mouth.

And as it leans beside my face,

my heart beats at a pounding pace.

A voice so rough and without grace,

begins to slightly moan.

“It’s too dark and I want to poo.”

Can I get into bed with you?

I know that it’s now half past two.

Excuse the fart it just broke through.”

And as it slips under the covers,

I have the urge to suddenly smother,

the creature lying next to me.

GODDAMMIT, NOW I HAVE TO PEE!

~Lily

Life From The Edge Of A Toilet Bowl (Releasing the Kraken)

---

The Witching Hour will soon be upon us…well when I say soon, I mean in 26 days, 17 hours, 59 minutes and 14…13…12…11…10…this bit could take some time…
Anyway, to get us into the mood for the day when the dead walk the earth with wailing souls and mournful cries and when Spawn rises up from the ashes of the fetid, dank darkness of a hellish place, where socks go to die and underpants forsake the humility of cleanliness by lying prostrate upon an effluent laden carpet, I bring you a tale of woe and courage as I take a trip to the bathroom. You’re welcome.

*My bathroom is an afterthought. It is also what one might call bijou.
It’s as though whoever designed the house, was so overly impressed with themselves at the paper thin walls and lopsided floors, that they forgot to add in a bathroom and thus remembering so, quickly utilised what space was left.
They also forgot to add a window leading me to believe that he or she, must have been raised in a cave. Maybe they was going for that ‘In Utero’ look and trying to give off a sense of womb-like tranquillity. Or maybe they just forgot to put in a bloody window!
So not only do the Womb-fruit and I have to contend with a bathroom that even an Oompa Loompa would deem too small, but the lighting system is now acting as though it has been offered a starry role in a horror movie and is acting all…

Needless to say, the light remains switched off, least one or both of us succumbs to a fit of epilepsy. 
So I sit in the toilet zone, the sound of the whirring fan my only company…well I think it’s my only company, it’s too dark to see what else is in there. Now it takes exactly four steps to reach the bathroom from my bedroom and thereon, exactly two steps to get to the toilet from the bathroom entrance. In my head however, those footfalls take far far longer. For in the dark recesses of my mind, the aforementioned footsteps, equal an epic journey of great importance and ginormous magnitudes.

The journey inevitable begins from the prison of my bed, whereby a huge exchange will take place between my mind, bladder and body.
Bladder will argue it’s point regarding the need for release and putting forward it’s plight concerning the injustice of having no control and always having to be put on hold.
The mind will rationalise the many problems faced by not getting up and taking care of nature, whilst gently reminding me of the intricacies of the Kegel method and that women with slack Lady Gardens DO NOT get dates.
My body? My body will be in the midst of giving up. All the components that make it functional, will be staging a gang warfare on their enemies pain and fatigue and all the while, I will just be lying there and pondering the fact that if I peed myself, I could always turn the mattress over. Besides, who wouldn’t welcome a bit of warmth on a cold chilly night…even if it is rather wet?

And that’s when dignity comes into play, (Damn you dignity!) forcing me to leave the confines of my enclosure and forwarding me onto my arduous adventure. Those four steps I wrote about earlier? Well they are no longer the mere treading of carpet. They are the battle walk of the weary and the forlorn as I trudge towards uncertain doom. Will I ever reach my destination on time, or like the war torn children of 1940’s Britain, will my bowels evacuate? So onward I march or lightly shuffle, over lands and hills, through towns and valleys, into worlds unknown and of mythical proportions. Encountering Hydras, two-headed werewolves and other beasts of my wanton imagination, my journey finally ends when I slay the fabled underwater monster and declare proudly, “RELEASE THE KRAKEN!” And yes, that is a euphemism for it’s time to poop.

So now I sit on the porcelain throne of my disembarkation, spent and slightly nauseated from the hardship of my travels. I cannot allow myself to feel a slight moment of victory, for the hard work has yet to begin.
Now as it has already been surmised, a trip to the bathroom is no mean feat. Once there, the occupancy of the room could take quite a while because once the cool surface of the throne is warmed by the posterior of the occupier, it’s er…rather difficult to achieve standing position thereafter. And so I stay and wait, and contemplate life from the edge of my toilet seat.

~Lily
*Taken and updated from my ‘More Sleep Please’ blog

Spam and I don’t mean the meaty kind…

I thought that I would pace myself a bit by only writing two posts a month. But first, I’d like to address an email I received from a rather confused but highly libidinous young woman by the name of Tatyana.

Hi, handsome stud! (Excuse me, what?) I’ve only found ur # by random and I would love 2 meet U. (I’m so glad that you found my #, I’ve been looking for that everywhere. Last place seen? On twitter preceding the hashtag learnsomegrammarbitch)
I’m so tired 2nite (Er…but I thought you wanted to meet up?) and I wanted 2 find somebody to have fool around with. (Wait…first you come on to me citing that you want to meet up, then you tell me you’re tired. Now you want to find someone else to fool around with? Talk about piss on my parade) I am a alluring teen (Narcissistic much?) that wants 2 send U some nude photos of myself. Just call this nmbr or msg me a txt (Seriously, you didn’t attend school much did you?) & I will show ya everything. (What? Including the secrets of time and space itself? Stephen Hawkins…is this you again?) Do you want to see my young tits and cute trunk? (OMG! Are you a lactating baby elephant?!) I have a collection of images of my delicious body (Let me spell narcissist for you. It’s S.K.A.N.K)  and I rly want you 2 see them 1st. (What? There’s a queue?) Don’t hesitate to long 😉 Er…(3 hours later) xxx http://bdsmfreepost.com (Isn’t BDSM the name of a furniture shop?)

As yet, I have received no reply

See you all next month! 🙂

~Lily

Standing On The Verge (of a nervous breakdown)

Hello…
Hello…
Is there anybody there?
Ooh, it’s quite spacious on this page now that everyone has gone. Very 2016 with it’s minimal look.
Well I just dropped by to say a quick ‘hello.’
So, what’s been happening?
Not much, except I fear that my sanity is about to break up with me.

At the same time, Insanity keeps knocking at my door and asking me if I want to come out and play. I don’t but it just won’t take no for an answer. I feel like a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown, though I’m not too sure why the breakdown should be the one feeling so nervous. The thing is, I like the verge and I don’t really want to cross it. The verge is soft and squidgy under my feet but Insanity isn’t playing fair and is being mean and spiteful. It keeps trying to push me over the verge and into the breakdown…I want to punch it in the metaphorical face.

I’m guessing that the constant pain, the absence of chocolate and the definite lack of sleep has put me in the place where I am now, and it’s certainly been a long time since I visited the ‘Land of Nod.’ This would probably explain why I keep wailing like a banshee over the most simplest of things.
When I stubbed my toe, I fell to my knees and bawled like somebody had told me that my dog had just died…and I don’t even have a dog.
And when a fly landed on my shoulder, I hysterically exclaimed:
“Fly, why are you victimising me so?! Am I so wretched a creature that you would mistake me for  a compact mass of substance otherwise termed as poop?! Oh fly, why do you torment me so?? I tend to get a bit dramatic whilst standing on the verge.

By now, even Insanity was having second thoughts about playing with me and Nervous Breakdown was practically having…well, a nervous breakdown, all the while babbling like a brook.
“For heaven’s sake!” Cried Dignity, “get a bloody grip woman, have you no shame?” To which I could only reply, “no, he’s run off with Sanity… the treacherous two-timing bastard.”
After about 30 minutes, Calm decided to intervene and take control of the situation.
“Okay emotions, everyone step away, there’s nothing to see here. Come on, give the woman some breathing room.” But alas, all the breathing rooms were locked and I started to hyperventilate until Calm soothed me once again.

Last night, Sanity came back and begged to be let back in, although there was a bit of an altercation with Insanity. After Sanity had kicked it in the proverbial gonads and Nervous Breakdown had stopped breaking down long enough to gather enough courage to happy slap it across it’s abstract face, Insanity left whimpering that it would be back soon and  that I hadn’t heard the last of it, not by a long shot.
I took Dignity’s advice and decided to get a grip but Grip kept moaning like a bitch that I was holding on too tight.
Shame came back too and together with my companions, Peace, Calm and Tiredness, we all decided to go on a long awaited vacation to the ‘Land of Nod.’

~Lily
 

Hail The Mighty Spawn, For Tis His Birthing Day!

The day of judgement will soon be upon us.

Even now, the Beast walks amongst us, awaiting the very moment of our destruction and the day when the dead shall arise. 

 The earth will split in two, as the fiery pits of hell spew forth like molten lava, cascading through the streets like a river of blood.

The moon will bleed it’s colour of menstrual violence and the blasphemers will throw open their arms and rejoice in sadistic pleasure as they call his name.

And although the hour of darkness is not quite near, it is close…well actually, it might take another twenty years give or take. And although the second coming is imminent, he’s still got homework to do.

Seriously world, I am honestly trying my utmost best to raise spawn to be an an upfront and outstanding pillar of the community. But once the battle between heaven and hell begins, then world, you are on your own.

Maybe we all should have a little fear in our hearts and a little quake in our boots.

I’m not sure if I should be glad  or indeed mortified that he has such high ambitions as world domination, either way, I’ll still probably have some harsh words to say about it.

30 years into the future…

“Excuse me sire, it’s your mother. She’s on the phone, almighty beast that walks the earth leaving catastrophe and destruction in his wake.”

“Evil minion, how many times have I told you not to interrupt me when I’m working?”

“But master, she told me to tell you that it was urgent, spewer of filth and ruler of lies.”

“Ah, very well, (sighs heavily) Put her through.”

“Yes sire, corrupter of souls and destroyer of the innocent.”

“Hey ma. Look, I can’t talk for long. I’ve got a ton of things to…”

“What! So you can’t call your mother? Ten hours I spent in labour with you. TEN LONG HOURS! And I almost  bled to death. I carried you for 9 whole months and it wasn’t easy squeezing such a large head through a hole the size of  a pin. Oh the agony! And this is how you repay me. The years I’ve spent…”

“Ma, can we do this another time. I’m really quite busy.”

“Oh busy are you? And what are you so busy with that you cannot call your own mother? What is it that is so important that you can’t take 5 minutes out of your busy schedule to speak to me, the woman that bore you…huh?”

“Ma you know how hard it is destroying the masses and trying to leave a trail of death and carnage in my wake. It’s not like this is a regular 9 to 5 job. It’s all day, everyday, 24/7. It’s taken a lot of hard work corrupting the weak and battling the forces between good and evil…Oh, God says hi by the way, he’s doing well for himself. Got millions of followers…and that’s on Twitter alone.”

“Oh, I liked God, such a lovely boy. Could never understand why you two fell out in the first place. You could do with a positive influence like that in your life…I bet he calls his mother!”

“Hee Hee.”

“Ma! You’re embarrassing me in the front of the evil minions! And anyway, we fell out because he was a wuss.”

“Well, now he’s a successful wuss. Honestly son, I know that you’ve had your heart set on this world domination thing ever since you were born. All those times you lied or stole stood you in good stead for the job ahead. Even as I look back on all the times that you tried relentlessly to kill me, never once giving up, I could tell then, that this was your chosen path, the thing that would define you as you. But is it too much to that you call your poor old mother once in a while?”

“Look ma, once you’re dead, we’ll have plenty of time to spend together. I’ve even got a place especially reserved for you here in hell. You’ll love it.”

“Pah! That fiery pit that you call a home?! Meh! It’s too over crowded down there for my liking and it always smells like brimstone. And besides, you always leave the heating on way too high and you know how I can’t  stand to be too hot. Look baby, just come  round for dinner. I’ll make your favourite, Shepard’s pie…with real Shepard…hmm? Just pop down on Sunday and we can have a nice chat…”

“Ooh, I can’t do Sundays, Sundays are my busiest days…”

“I’m sure that that nice God, would have taken some time out to go and visit his mother. Such a lovely boy, always…”

“OK OK! Sunday it is! Jeez, there really is no rest for the wicked!!”

He may be evil folks, and even though he’d still like to kill me and watch as Buzzards feast upon my intestines, he’s my evil and the absolute love of my life. Happy Birthday Spawn. xx

~Lily

Every Dog Will Have It’s Day.

Friends, I bring you some grave news. That’s right, I’ve written another post. Seriously people, dysentery and thrush get a better reception than I do.

 

  “Mmmm, that’s right human, stroke me. You know how I like it…Oh, ahem. Friends, we are gathered here on this night, to counteract the greatest threat to our very existence… that of the feline variety. For too long now, these cretinous creatures have taunted us…”

“Defied us…”

“And turned us against those of our own ilk.”

“Our plans to infiltrate their ranks, have failed miserably…”

“as they seek to undermine and overpower us.”

“We have, in the past, tried to extend the hand of peace but to no avail. They have rebuffed our advances by refusing the bonds of friendship, preferring  instead, to think that they are our superiors.”

“But sadly my dear brethren, we cannot solely lay all the blame of our failures at the door of those carnivorous mammals with their retractable claws and their haughty behaviour. For over the years we have become complacent…”

“Foolish…”

“fearful…”

“and far too passive.”

“But fear not brothers and sisters, we shall prevail. We SHALL smite them down…”

“and finally rid ourselves of their spiteful intent…”

“whilst infiltrating their ranks once again.”

“There will be no friendship, no integration, no inclusion and no peace. We will rule once more. This, I promise you my brothers and sisters, for every dog will have it’s day.”

“OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!!”

X-Ray Vision and Laser Beam Eyes

It would seem that the leader of an underground group of felines, calling themselves the Doom Cats, has gotten wind of the fact that not only does Spawn intend to use them for his army of minions but he also hopes to create a new species of Felis Catus…with X-ray vision and laser beam eyes. And yes, he is still attending his weekly therapy sessions.

“Members of the Feline community, I have gathered you all here today to impart upon you some very disturbing news. It would seem that…where’s Officers Tubbies and Tibbs?”

 “I shall go and search for them, your Grace. I think I saw them go into the living room. They appeared to be having some sort of a disagreement”. (Opens the door to living room)

 

“Er…they seem to be otherwise engaged, my liege.”

“No matter, I’m sure they will join us in good time By the way Tom, you really need to lay off the caffeine.”

“Why do you say that Grand Lord?”

“Well, it’s just that your eyes…they’re a bit…you know…”

“Never mind. As I was saying Felines, I bring you some grave news…good God Sian! Can you please sit and conduct yourself in a manner as befitting a lady!”

“Dammit Sian, I can see what you had for breakfast! And where is everyone? There seems to be a distinct number of felines missing. Zelda?”

“I think I saw my husband Felix heading downstairs. I shall go and fetch him at once sir.”

“Chucky, do you know where the others have gone to? This really is of some great importance.”

“I believe sire, that Smudge has chosen to opt out of the Doom Cats. Apparently he’s now found God.”

“What in damnation is going on? Neville, will you please come out of that box! And Alfie, what the hell has gotten into you? Unhand that scratching post this instance!”

 “RIGHT THAT’S ENOUGH! HAVE YOU ALL LOST YOUR MINDS?! AND WHERE IS LIEUTENANT CLYDE?”

“Someone pass me the catnip, I think I’m getting a headache. And will somebody please go and fetch me Officer Timmykins!!”

*5 minutes later…*

“Sir, I have a favour to ask of you.”

*sighs* “Very well Nibbles, what is it?”

“Felines! We are about to be beset by a megalomaniac child who is intent on recruiting us as his minions! He hopes to achieve this, by creating an army of cats with X-ray vision and laser beam eyes!”

“Never mind.”

~Lily

Updated from 27.04.2013